


you asked me to dance (and it was love at second sight)

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Barista Finn, Coffee Shops, F/F, Fluff, M/M, Mechanic Poe, Mutual Pining, rey has a lowkey cute mechanic gf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-09 04:58:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5526206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not as though Poe really needs an excuse to go over to the little coffee shop across the road. It’s more the fact that he enjoys the company much more than he enjoys the coffee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When a new coffee shop opens up right across the street from Rapier Repairs, Karé miraculously produces a bottle of champagne from where she’s stashed it under a heap of spare parts, claiming that not having to walk an extra ten minutes to get her daily fix of coffee every morning is cause for celebration.

Poe thinks (or rather, knows), as she and Iolo bring out three champagne glasses from god-knows-where, that it’s really just a poorly disguised excuse to get drunk at work.

“Hey, we’re doing important work here, guys,” he protests, grabbing the bottle of champagne from Karé’s hand before she can forgo the glasses and chug it straight from the bottle.

“What, taking bits out of cars and stuffing new bits in for a buck?” Iolo scoffs, shoving a glass into Poe’s other hand. “If they really cared that much about their cars, they’d pay us more.”

“Speaking as your boss, technically, you are _not_ allowed to get shit-faced on my watch,” Poe persists.

“This guy,” Karé says to Iolo as though Poe isn’t right there. “He never lets us have any fun.”

“You two would be dead without me around to chaperone you and you know it,” Poe says, but a smile prickles at the corners of his lips.

“Aw, we love ya, Poe Bear,” Iolo says with a grin. “Now give the bottle back.”

“No,” Poe replies resolutely, and puts the bottle in the break room. It doesn’t much matter, in the end, because Karé and Iolo drink the whole bottle anyway, just as soon as 7 PM rolls around and Poe puts the ‘closed’ sign on the door.

 

The next morning, Poe comes to work, puts his things down, and is told by the designated bearer of bad news (Iolo, wearing dark sunglasses and earplugs) that, since he was the last to arrive at work, he has to be the one to pick up coffees for all three of them from the new shop across the street.

“Of course I got here last, you both passed out here last night,” Poe says, not wanting to miss an opportunity to tease Iolo, even though he doesn’t much mind going to get the coffee.

Iolo stares at him (he thinks – the sunglasses make it difficult to tell) for several seconds before turning away with a mumbled _“I don’t know, I don’t know what you’re talking about – I can’t hear you, I’m wearing earplugs”_.

Poe laughs and leaves the shop, throwing a coat over Karé – who is out cold on the hood of someone’s Cadillac – as he exits.

Imagine a coffee shop. Close your eyes and really draw upon every description in every book you’ve ever read, picture every coffee shop on every street corner you’ve ever been to, recall every pastel-tinted photograph you’ve ever seen.

Now, open your eyes. This is the coffee shop Poe steps into: quaint, tidy, tucked away. There is a bell above the door, books strewn across the tables, and a boy at the counter, who is very clearly dozing off but jolts awake at the sound of the bell. He blinks like the lights are too bright for him as Poe walks up to the counter, hands in the pockets of his jacket.

As soon as he sees that Poe is standing right in front of him, the barista’s expression becomes one of abject mortification. Poe, surprised to discover that this is unbearably endearing, tries (and fails) to keep his rapidly spreading smile under wraps.

“Hi,” Poe says, looking at the barista and not at the menu. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” says the boy, relaxing a little now that Poe has made it clear that he won’t berate him for falling asleep.

Something about the softened, gentle angles of the boy’s face and his quiet, unassuming stance makes Poe smile even more.

“One Cappuccino, one Caffè Latte, and one Americano,” Poe says, eyes flickering up to the menu for an instant but returning to the barista shortly after. “All large and to go.”

“Okay,” says the barista, and begins to turn away before he turns back, remembering two very crucial things: “Um, that’s nine forty. Anything else?”

“Smelling salts, if you have them,” Poe quips, digging around in his wallet for the money. He can feel the boy stop, hovering at the counter in confusion, and looks up to hand the bills to quite a befuddled barista indeed.

“This is a coffee shop,” he says, and Poe is so incredibly charmed that his smile becomes a beam.

“I was kidding.”

“Oh.”

He swears the barista blushes as he takes a sharpie out from under the counter. “Name?”

Poe looks around. The café is completely empty. A questioning eyebrow arched, he turns back to the boy, who shrugs bashfully.

“I’m new here, man. Just trying to follow protocol.”

Poe laughs, half in disbelief and half in amusement, and decides to indulge him. “Uh, I’m Poe. That’s P-O-E.”

“Poe,” the barista repeats, and scrawls it on each of the three coffee cups. “Nice to meet you. I’m Finn.”

He sets the cups down and Poe thinks he catches a hint of a smile before Finn turns away to make the drinks. Poe’s heart inadvertently skips a beat (or several) as he moves down the counter and leans against the wall, eyes roaming around the coffee shop.

He thinks to himself, as his barista slides the finished drinks across the counter to him, that he might make a habit out of arriving to work late if it means he has an excuse to come here every morning.

“There you go,” Finn says with a small smile, and Poe feels like there’s a fireworks display going off inside him as he takes the drinks.

“Thanks, bud,” he says, dropping his change into the tip jar, and leaves. The bell over the door sounds quietly as he goes and he can feel Finn watching him.

 

“He asked for your name even though you were the only one there?” Iolo repeats, sliding himself out from under the car he’s working on to look at Poe in disbelief. “And then he _introduced himself_ to you?”

“Yeah,” Poe says, typing out an email to one of their clients.

“That is the smoothest introductory tactic _and_ the most blatant flirting I’ve ever heard of.”

“Shut up,” says Poe.

“Looks like someone has a crush,” Karé remarks, and passes a socket wrench to Iolo.

“Get back to work or I’ll fire both of you,” Poe says, not looking at either of them as they snicker, but he can’t quite suppress the smile spreading across his face.

 

He gets to work five minutes late the next day and pretends to be annoyed when he is told to go and get the coffee again.

 

Eventually, Poe begins to set his morning alarm for five minutes later. And even when he doesn’t get there last, Karé and Iolo don’t seem to have a problem with breaking their own rule of “the last person to get to work gets the coffee”, simply because he’s long since stopped pretending to be annoyed.

It’s not as though he really _needs_ an excuse to go over to the little coffee shop across the road – in fact, there’s almost nothing stopping him from going there at any time of the day, if he wanted to. It’s more the fact that he enjoys the company more than he enjoys the coffee, and he’s not sure if Finn would be interested in talking during the afternoon, when there are far more people.

In the morning, though, the shop is always deserted, and Finn is always there, wiping the sleep from his eyes and restocking the napkin dispenser.

He’s still shy about conversing with Poe, despite Poe’s best efforts, so it takes a few weeks for them to move past one-word answers, but one morning Finn greets Poe by name and Poe is struck by how good his name sounds when spoken by the right person.

“Good morning, Finn,” Poe replies, stepping up to the counter. “The usual. Minus the cappuccino. He’s off sick today.”

“Oh,” Finn says. “Six forty, then.”

As Poe fishes around in his wallet for the money, resigning himself to yet another day of meaningless small talk with Mr. Cute Barista, Finn continues, which probably surprises him more than it surprises Poe.

“I guess now I know that you’re not the one who gets the cappuccino.”

“That’s the kind of thing you speculate about?” Poe says quizzically, handing the money over with an impish smile. “You could’ve just asked.”

“Yeah, but guessing is the fun part,” Finn replies, smiling back. “Cappuccino was my guess for you.”

“So what do you guess now?”

“Dunno. I need to step back and ponder my options.”

“Well, it’s your lucky day, Finn,” Poe says, leaning on the counter. “I’m just gonna tell you, ‘cause I like you so much.”

Finn absolutely _does_ blush this time, turning away quickly to hide his face as he starts to make the drinks. “Go ahead.”

“Caffè latte,” Poe says, beaming, because Finn is so utterly delightful that his insides feel like they might be glowing whenever he’s around him.

“So your girl is the other one?”

“Yeah,” says Poe. He pauses, then feels the need to clarify: “She’s not, uh,  _my_ girl, or anything like that. We’re friends.”

Finn glances back for a second, then returns to his work, a faintly amused smile on his face. “I meant that she works with you.”

“Oh,” Poe says, clearing his throat uncomfortably, and readjusts his jacket, feeling his face heat up.

“I know her because she likes our brownies,” Finn says.

“Oh,” Poe replies, and they fall into comfortable silence. There's still a faint smile on Finn's face, which makes Poe's stomach start churning in the most pleasant way as he moves down to the end of the counter to wait for his order, eyes flickering away occasionally but always coming back to Finn.

 

Karé is having breakfast at a small café near the repair shop one Sunday when Poe walks past, sees her unexpectedly, tries to avoid her gaze, and fails completely.

“Poe?” she says, quirking an eyebrow at him. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but today’s our day off, right? Or did I miss a memo?”

“No, it is our day off,” Poe says, praying to god that she won’t ask him what he’s doing there even though he lives thirty minutes away.

“Then what are you doing here? You live thirty minutes away.”

Fuck.

“Um,” says Poe, running a hand through his hair as he avoids her inquisitive and slightly amused gaze. “I just wanted to get some coffee.”

“You literally live next door to a Starbucks, dude.”

“Yeah, but I’m used to this particular type of coffee.”

“Uh-huh,” Karé says, completely unimpressed, and lifts her glass of orange juice to her lips. “The _coffee_ is what you go there for.”

“That’s what I said,” Poe replies, and tries to ignore her knowing smirk as he walks off.

Finn is asleep on the counter when Poe walks in but, just like the first time they met, the bell over the door makes him jolt awake. Poe grins as he goes up to the counter and Finn looks exactly the same shade of mortified as the first time.

“Poe? You don’t come in on Sundays.”

“I’m flattered that you track my patterns,” Poe says. “I just woke up with a craving for some coffee, y’know?”

A craving for _something,_ anyway, he thinks to himself as Finn smooths down his apron hurriedly, looking very self-conscious indeed. Poe would tell him that he thinks he’s adorable if that weren’t weird.

“Just the usual for you?”

“Oh, yes,” Poe says, hands in his jacket pockets. “But not to go this time.”

Finn fixes him with a gaze that makes Poe’s heart twist up into his throat before he smiles, shaking his head, and Poe is _definitely_ suffocating then, finding it difficult to breathe as Finn grabs a cup and a sharpie from under the counter.

When Poe gets his drink, he moves back to the cash register, and takes a leisurely sip of the coffee, leaning on the counter.

“Um,” says Finn. “There are chairs.”

“That’s okay,” Poe replies, smiling over the rim at Finn. “I like it here.”

“People might want to come and order.”

“Let them,” says Poe rakishly, and Finn ducks his head, smiling to himself.

 

One morning, Poe walks into the coffee shop and stops, because the person at the counter is definitely not Finn.

Instead, a young woman with a very no-nonsense demeanor and stormy eyes that don’t belong in such a demure face sits at the counter, staring intensely at her phone.

“Hi,” Poe says cautiously as he approaches, and she looks up. Pocketing her phone, she stands up, stance proud and upright.

“Good morning,” she says, and her accent is prominent in every syllable. “What can I get you?”

“Uh,” is all Poe can say. “Where’s Finn?”

She looks at him, confused. “Finn’s not here yet.”

“Oh,” Poe says. “Okay.”

He repeats his usual order, with a minor difference (he substitutes the Caffè Latte for another Americano), and as he’s waiting by the end of the counter, Finn bursts in from the back room, haphazardly slinging on his apron.

“Thanks for coming early, Rey,” he says, sounding slightly out of breath.

“No problem,” Rey replies. Finn speaks to her and Poe can’t quite hear what they're saying, but her sharp, angular features contrasted against Finn's soft, mellow ones paint a pretty picture. Rey is smiling at Finn over the electric mixer as she speaks and Finn chuckles quietly and Poe swears to _God_ he can feel himself growing weak.

Finn turns and catches sight of Poe. A smile warmer than sunshine immediately spreads across his face and Poe feels that familiar rushing sensation in his stomach. “Good morning, Poe.”

Poe hears Rey make a faint _‘hm’_ sound.

“Finn,” Poe manages, heart growing ten sizes. (How could it not when Finn looks at him like that?) “What, uh, what took you so long?”

“Just needed to take care of some stuff,” Finn replies, shrugging it off. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Poe says. “Rey here has been very good to me.”

Poe notices then that Rey has stopped what she’s doing and is watching them sneakily, eyebrows raised slightly, before she turns away and Poe can’t see her face anymore. Finn, fumblingly beginning to tie the apron strings behind his back, slowly moves down the counter as a not-so-subtle way of signaling Poe to start a conversation, which Poe is more than happy to do.

“Good thing you weren’t here, actually,” he remarks, leaning on the counter to smile across at Finn. “Changed my order today. Not sure you’d remember to make a different drink if you’d been here.”

“You'd just distract me with your talk,” Finn counters, continuing to struggle with his apron strings and becoming increasingly flustered.

“Need any help there, bud?”

“Yes,” Finn says, immediately letting go of the strings and turning around. “Thanks.”

Poe reaches over the counter as Finn continues: “Why the change of heart – or coffee?”

“I have to work late tonight,” Poe mumbles, slightly distracted by Finn’s – well, everything, actually. He can sense Rey’s amused gaze on them. “Just gotta work out the expenses. You know, super fun stuff.”

“Sounds like it,” Finn says.

Poe finishes tying the strings together and pulls back, just as Rey finishes the last drink and Finn has to scoot out of the way for her to give him the order.

“Thanks,” Poe says, putting his change in the tip jar. “Have a good day.”

“Same to you,” Rey replies, hand already halfway to the pocket her phone is in.

Poe flashes a smile at them, takes his drinks, and leaves.

As he’s walking away, he hears Rey mumble: “You're right, he's cute.”

“Be quiet,” Finn mutters. Rey laughs quietly.

Poe’s heart leaps.

He can’t stop grinning as he exits the shop, and grins for a long time afterwards. Karé and Iolo spend the day making up a song about Poe and his coffee shop boy, and although Poe reprimands them about it repeatedly, the lack of resolve in his tone does not go unnoticed.

 

The expense reports are very long and very boring. Poe flips through them listlessly, hating his past self for leaving them this late, and is just about to give up on them and go home when there is a knock on the door of the shop.

“We’re closed,” he shouts out.

“Oh, no,” comes a voice that makes him stop what he’s doing and turn around. “That’s unfortunate.”

Poe is at the door in a matter of seconds, flinging it open to see Finn standing there, looking quite bashful and holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a doggie bag that smells of baked goods in the other.

“You said you needed to work late.”

Poe thinks he might be falling in love right then and there as he claps Finn on the shoulder, smile coming to his face as naturally as breathing.

“You,” Poe says, meaning every syllable with painful sincerity. “You are, without a doubt, one of the greatest people I have ever met.”

Finn beams in gratification, a smile too wide for his face, eyes practically sparkling, and yes, Poe absolutely does fall in love right then and there.

 

Poe doesn’t know exactly how it happens, but eventually, they’re sitting side by side on the floor of his office, expense reports forgotten. Finn is laughing and, to Poe, Finn’s laugh is maybe the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. As Finn tosses his head back, Poe thinks about how he never wants to stop making Finn laugh.

His laughter subsiding, Finn leans his head against the wall, and Poe takes a moment to appreciate the view of his profile against the warm light of the lamp on his desk.

“Hey, thanks for bringing me all that stuff,” Poe says, injecting as much of the considerable gratitude he feels into his voice as possible, determined to convey to Finn just how much he means to him. “Seriously, man, thank you.”

“No problem,” Finn replies, and turns to smile at Poe, who, again, experiences a sensation not unlike that of fireworks exploding in his stomach. “Thanks for letting me stay.”

“Yeah, well,” Poe says, shrugging a little. “Expense reports get boring after a while. Good company makes them slightly more bearable.”

“Right,” says Finn. “The expense reports. You need to get back to those, right?”

“I guess,” Poe replies, even if everything about his tone indicates that no, he does not want to go back to his expense reports at all.

“I should go, then,” Finn says.

“Oh,” says Poe, and makes no effort to keep the disappointment out of his voice. “Okay.”

Finn begins to stand up, and something in Poe changes, like a switch has been flipped. His hand darts out to grab Finn’s arm and, when Finn turns to look at him in confusion, Poe closes the distance between them abruptly and kisses him.

Finn makes a startled noise somewhere in the base of his throat and for a heart-stopping split second, Poe is afraid that he misread the moment, misread the signs, misread everything.

But suddenly Finn is crashing back down to the floor and his hand is clumsily clutching at the front of Poe’s jacket and oh, he’s definitely kissing back now, and Poe’s head is filled with nothing but fireworks and sunlight and unbelievable euphoria. Finn smells like coffee and chocolate and stars, stretching into forever, too many stars to ever be catalogued, lights and souls and warm sighs that send Poe’s head into a frenzy.

They part much too quickly, although it seems like they’ve been there for several infinities. It takes a moment for them to catch their breath.

“You should, um,” Finn finally manages, hovering so close that Poe can hardly stand the heat radiating off his skin. “You should get back to work.”

“Or,” Poe counters, voice husky, eyes flickering down to Finn’s lips, which are slightly parted and utterly irresistible. “Here’s another idea: I could do that again.”

“Oh,” says Finn, eyes dark and breath coming in gentle gasps. “Good idea.”

Poe is grinning when he kisses Finn again, eager to taste the stars.


	2. i won't just buy you a rose (i will buy the flower shop and you will never be lonely)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe the way Poe looks is just intimidating in and of itself (is it even legal for someone who looks like that to wander the streets without any kind of warning?).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ye here's finn's side of the story!!!! enjoy the mutual pining and the finnrey :~)

They’re sitting on his couch and watching old episodes of _Parks and Recreation_ when Finn tells Rey, a tad sheepishly, that he needs a job. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he can see her eyes light up and her mouth begin to open.

“Gosh,” she manages to say through a mouthful of pizza. She swallows hurriedly and continues, eager: “The place where I work is opening a new location, and I’m going to be transferred there, and they’re holding job interviews next week!”

Finn waits a second for her to catch up to herself, smiling at her rapid-fire enthusiasm.

“So, do you want it?” Rey asks, eyes glittering.

“You seem so excited about it,” is all Finn can say. “How could I say no?”

“Yes!” Rey says in exultation. Finn can’t help but chuckle.

“There is one thing, though,” she adds, and Finn looks over at her.

“What?”

“You’d have to come in a little earlier every morning.”

She looks at him in trepidation, but the forceful excitement he can sense just buzzing behind her eyes at the prospect of working with him compels him to accept.

He shrugs a little. “I need a job.”

Rey claps her hands together happily and reaches for her fourth slice of pizza.

 

The pay, while decent, is _definitely_ not enough to compensate for the emotional and mental stress sustained by having to wake up at 5 in the morning and drag yourself to work by 6:30, Finn thinks bitterly as he drags a stool up to the counter at the end of a completely empty shop.

This coffee shop has a typical, coffee shop-esque charm to it. At least, that’s the only way Finn can think of to describe it in his head as he rests his chin on his hand, leaning on the counter. There’s barely any movement outside the shop, let alone inside it, so it’s very doubtful that he’ll actually get a customer at this time of day.

Something about the unadulterated serenity of the coffee shop mixed with the fatigue that comes with having to wake up especially early makes Finn’s eyelids droop.

He tries to fight off the sleep, but comes nowhere close to even managing to keep his eyes open; he’s dozing off blissfully when suddenly the bell over the door rings and footsteps sound.

Finn’s hand drops to slam against the counter as he jolts back, eyes opening suddenly and beginning to burn at the sudden light. It’s only after this immediate crisis of temporary blindness that he realizes that he is facing a much bigger problem: standing in front of him is a customer who definitely saw him dozing off.

Finn’s expression must be especially amusing, since the man, standing with his hands in his pockets, sees him and his face instantly breaks into an amicable smile. Finn stares at him, straining to try and think of something to say.

The situation would be _much_ easier to handle, he thinks, if the guy didn’t look exactly like a real-life Prince Charming, but his tousled hair and his sharp jaw are derailing Finn’s thought process and making it very difficult to keep his mind on work-related things.

“Hi,” the man says, and Finn swallows a little under his gaze. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Finn replies, breathing a little easier. The man’s smile grows wider, brighter, and Finn’s chest tightens.

As soon as the man orders, Finn is overeager to turn away because _holy hell,_ the dude’s eyes are seriously distracting (Finn feels truly mortified at even the thought of swooning over some guy’s eyes), but remembers just in time: “Um, that’s nine forty. Anything else?”

“Smelling salts, if you have them,” Dreamy Eyes says, looking down at his wallet, and Finn is genuinely thrown for a loop for a second, mind still in a haze from seeing this unnecessarily good-looking man walk in and smile at him like that.

“This is a coffee shop,” Finn says tentatively as he takes the money, and the smile that greets him is so, so warm that his insides feel like they’re lighting up.

“I was kidding.”

“Oh.”

Finn ducks his head, grabbing a sharpie and three coffee cups from under the counter. “Uh, name?”

As soon as he says it, he knows it’s a silly thing, and clearly Dreamy Eyes agrees, looking around the shop pointedly and turning back to Finn with one eyebrow quirked questioningly. Finn shrugs a little, avoiding eye contact.

“I’m new here, man. Just trying to follow protocol.”

Half a second of stunned silence passes before Dreamy Eyes lets out a laugh. It’s just one laugh, and there is definitely a note of disbelief to it, but it’s enough to make Finn’s heart flutter, which is stupid.

“I’m Poe. That’s P-O-E.”

“Poe,” Finn repeats, scribbling it down on each of the cups. Then, before he can think about it: “Nice to meet you. I’m Finn.”

Finn realizes, all too late, that this is the dumbest introductory tactic ever conceived, but as he puts the cups down and turns away, he catches a glimpse of Poe’s gaze, which is half of amusement and half of awe, and he can’t help but smile a little himself.

The silence as he makes the drinks and Poe waits by the counter is not deafening or uncomfortable, but quite pleasant – the kind of silence you don’t need to fill with conversation or noise. When he’s done, Finn slides the drinks across the counter.

“There you go,” Finn says, and he thinks that Poe’s eyes linger on his face half a second too long before he grins, thanks him, and drops his change into the tip jar.

Finn watches him as he goes.

 

“How was your first week, then?” Rey asks over a cup of tea as Finn flicks idly through TV channels.

“It was okay,” Finn replies, suppressing a yawn. “Kinda hard to get up so early every morning. And we only ever get one customer between 6:30 and 8, anyway, so what’s the point?”

“I could switch shifts with you sometime, if you’d like,” Rey offers, and Finn smiles over at her, appreciative of her generosity but, unfortunately, unable to keep his mind off Poe.

“Tempting offer, but I have to pass,” Finn says, turning back to the television. He can feel Rey watching him suspiciously.

“Really? Well, what d’you really have to lose, mate?”

“Nothing,” Finn replies, and he might say it too quickly and too defensively because he can practically _hear_ Rey begin to smile.

“I’m sure,” she says, taking a knowing sip of her tea. “I’m sure you’ve met a lot of interesting people. Nice ones, mean ones … attractive ones.”

Finn casts a faux-annoyed sideways glance at her but can’t keep himself from smiling bashfully. Unfortunately for him, Rey is much too sharp, which means that he’ll have to tell the truth eventually, anyway.

“Okay, I’ll talk,” he says, and Rey grins broadly.

“There’s this guy.”

“Ooh,” Rey says, singsong.

“His name is Poe and he’s the only one that comes in in the mornings.”

“Shocker.”

“We talk sometimes.”

“Is he cute?”

Finn pauses, immediately flustered. “Um.”

“Is he?” Rey persists, shifting closer to listen more attentively.

“That’s subjective,” Finn starts, and Rey interrupts him with an onslaught of booing at his attempt to avoid the question.

“Fine. Fine!” Finn says finally, folding under Rey’s playful but intense gaze. “He’s cute. Okay?”

Rey laughs, throwing her head back, and finishes her tea.

 

Finn eventually stops falling asleep at the counter because Poe could come in at any time from 6:30 to 7 and he wants to be awake when he does come in. At least then, he can be conscious of how he presents himself.

Every morning, when the bell over the door rings, Finn is right there at the counter, already knowing what Poe will order but ready to go through the whole rigmarole anyway just for the sake of hearing Poe talk.

One day, just as Poe leaves, Rey walks in from the back room unexpectedly, apron on and hair tied up. Finn jumps in surprise as she stops, staring at him in surprise and disbelief.

“Finn?”

“Rey,” Finn replies, brow furrowed in confusion. “What are you doing here?”

“Um,” Rey says, raising her eyebrows as she steps up beside him at the counter. “I told you I’d have to switch shifts with you today ‘cause I have to pick my dad up from the airport today.”

“Oh,” Finn says sheepishly, recalling this conversation now that she’s reminded him of it. “I guess I was just too used to coming in this early.”

“Oh, yeah,” Rey says drily. “ _That’s_ what you’re used to.”

“You’re still late, you know.”

“You do realize,” Rey steamrollers on. “You’re going to have to come in at 6 tonight as well, right?”

“Yes,” Finn says, resigning himself to it.

That evening, Finn is wiping down the counter, only a couple of stragglers left, when the door bursts open and a woman wearing a jacket that looks exactly like the one Poe always wears walks in. Finn finds it distinctly difficult to look away from her face, which is – in the fullest sense of the phrase – almost perfect.

She takes off her sunglasses (despite the fact that, in the evening, there is definitely no sun. She _does_ look cool, though) and stops at the counter, staring at Finn in surprise.

“You are not Rey,” she says.

“No, I’m not,” Finn replies, and she smirks. Finn is distracted by the fact that she’s wearing what looks to be Poe’s jacket. As she steps up to the counter, he smells the faintly familiar scent of motor oil, but the smell of windswept, sunny days that clings to Poe and lingers behind even after he leaves is markedly absent.

“Brownie, please,” she says, and the money is already on the counter in exact change. “Those things are like crack.”

Finn eyes her jacket for a second, then, satisfied that it isn’t Poe’s, heads over to the display case.

 

Maybe the way Poe looks is just intimidating in and of itself (is it even legal for someone who looks like _that_ to wander the streets without any kind of warning?), but it takes Finn a while to build up the courage to have a conversation with Poe that involves more than just “good morning” and “thank you”.

He talks about the woman with the jacket and is pleased to hear Poe confirm that they’re just co-workers in a noticeably hurried manner.

After their first real conversation, the comfortable silence that both of them are used to by now falls over them. Finn can feel Poe pay more attention to him than usual, even, and it makes his heart beat faster in the most pleasant way.

 

One evening, Finn falls asleep on Rey’s couch at 6 PM, days of waking up before the sun comes up finally catching up to him. He wakes up to a headache, gigantic windows that let in too much light for Finn to handle, and a note stuck to his forehead.

_You seemed exhausted so I decided to go in early for you. Get here when you can. –Rey_

Finn looks at the clock. 6:20.

Half an hour later, he crashes through the back room door, hastily putting his apron on over his head. Rey, halfway through making a drink, casts a glance over at him.

“Thanks for coming early, Rey,” Finn says, breathing heavier than usual.

“No problem,” she replies, smiling at him over the electric mixer. Finn moves closer to her.

“You need any help?”

“No, I’m okay.”

“You sure?”

“Finn,” Rey says, and her tone makes Finn chuckle a little.

“Well,” she adds, turning away from him. “You could help me by entertaining our customer. He asked about you as soon as he walked in, you know.”

Finn turns towards the end of the counter immediately, and even though he’s expecting the face that he sees, Poe’s eyes are on him and Finn can’t help but smile so widely that he thinks his face might crack open.

“Good morning, Poe.”

Rey makes a sudden _‘hm’_ noise behind Finn.

“Finn,” Poe says, straightening, and Finn feels his heart flutter uncontrollably. (How could it not when Poe is saying his name like that?) “What, uh, what took you so long?”

It’s the first time Poe’s ever looked openly flustered, as though Finn’s sudden presence has caught him off-guard, and even though Poe’s eyes and mouth and hair and jawline and _everything_ about the way he just is makes Finn’s mind wander, to see him like this is a completely different sensation. His heart is beating faster all through their exchange; Poe helps him tie the strings of his apron and when the tips of his fingers briefly brush the small of Finn’s back, Finn swears he can feel lightning strike him.

As Poe leaves, Rey sidles up next to Finn and mumbles, staring down at her phone: “You’re right, he’s cute.”

“Be quiet,” Finn mutters, scandalized, absolutely sure that Poe can still hear them. Rey laughs quietly, glancing up at Finn.

“You don’t have to come back in the evening again, by the way.”

“Why not? You covered part of my shift for me.”

“No, this is just a favor to a friend,” comes the nonchalant reply, and Finn can feel his heart swell slightly.

“You’re such a lovely person,” says Finn.

“Oh, I know,” Rey says, and Finn laughs.

He does come back in the evening, anyway, coming in through the front door. Rey is talking to the long-legged girl who works with Poe and smells of motor oil. They both look over at him, conversation halting.

“Hi,” Finn says.

“I told you that you didn’t have to come back,” Rey says, eyebrows raising slightly.

“I’m not here to work,” Finn replies, bending over to peer into the display case. Then, addressed to the woman at the counter: “These brownies are good, aren’t they?”

“Best I’ve ever had,” she replies, and he can practically hear the faint smirk on her face.

“Okay,” Finn says, straightening. “One of those and a caffè latte. To go.”

Rey stares at him, looking like she’s trying to figure something out. Then there's a realization and a smile.

“Karé,” she says. “Why did you get off work early, again?”

“Oh,” Karé says, and grins over at Rey in sheer delight. “My boss has some extra work to do.”

“Ah,” Rey replies. They both look over at Finn, who rolls his eyes.

“Subtle,” he mutters, taking out his wallet.

 

The light inside the workshop is definitely on when Finn walks up to the doorstep, peering into the window curiously. He can catch a faint glimpse of Poe, barely moving at his desk, staring down at the papers with a look of extreme boredom.

He almost gets lost again just by looking at Poe, sitting in the warm light, still as a statue and just as beautiful, but remembers what he came for as the doggie bag in his hand rustles slightly.

A knock on the door, then a very irritated voice: “We’re closed.”

“Oh, no,” Finn says loudly, hoping that Poe recognizes his voice well enough not to be too upset. “That’s unfortunate.”

The door is open in a matter of seconds and Finn steps back in surprise as Poe practically bursts out, eyes lighting up (or, perhaps, it’s just the reflection of the light on his eyes).

“You said you needed to work late,” Finn explains, seeing Poe’s eyes flicker down to what he’s holding in his hands.

Poe’s smile is so bright and so glowing that Finn is almost overwhelmed by it; Poe’s hand goes to his shoulder and at the contact Finn’s heart skips a beat.

“You,” Poe says, and the aching sincerity in his voice is just so much. “You are, without a doubt, one of the greatest people I have ever met.”

Finn can’t stop smiling at that.

 

Poe invites him in (more like ‘won’t let him leave’, actually) and Finn doesn’t know what to do until Poe decides it’s high time to take a break from his work. They move from the chairs to the couch to the floor and Poe gives Finn half of his brownie, claiming that it’s the very least he can do.

Poe makes a joke that really isn’t all that good but something about him, something about his presence, fills Finn with joy and makes him laugh uncontrollably, throwing his head back. He can feel Poe’s eyes on him when he stops laughing and doesn’t want to look over, certain that he'll fall even harder if he does. It doesn’t seem possible, at this point, but these past few months have been full of welcome surprises.

“Hey, thanks for bringing me all that stuff,” Poe says, voice suddenly quiet and full of emotion. Finn swallows slightly. “Seriously, man, thank you.”

“No problem,” Finn replies, unable to help himself from turning to look at Poe. In the dim light, Poe looks exactly like how he imagines an angel would, which is really fucking with him. “Thanks for letting me stay.”

“Yeah, well,” Poe says with a small shrug. “Expense reports get boring after a while. Good company makes them slightly more bearable.”

“Right,” says Finn, suddenly crestfallen at remembering the expense reports. “The expense reports. You need to get back to those, right?”

“I guess,” Poe replies, and his voice rings with such genuine disappointment that Finn’s heart aches.

“I should go, then,” Finn says, half wishing Poe will stop him or insist he stay.

“Oh,” is all Poe says. “Okay.”

And that’s it, then; Finn turns away, resigning himself to it and thinking about how, at least, he got to spend an hour or two with Poe, without a counter between them. But there’s a hand on his arm suddenly and Finn turns.

He sees Poe’s face for a split second and the emotions running rampant in Poe’s eyes makes Finn’s heart stop then speed up rapidly as Poe leans up and kisses him.

Finn is frozen for a second, holding his breath, completely incapable of judging what to do next, but Poe’s lips shift slightly under his and then everything shifts, all at once. Finn lets himself be brought back down, sliding down to kiss him back with gusto, heart beating out of his chest. His hands scramble to find something to anchor himself down because he feels like he could fly at this exact moment, head spinning, and settles on grabbing at the front of Poe’s jacket. Poe feels like running, like dancing, like windows that let in too much light.

He has to pull away because he feels like he might be suffocating, panting as he draws back slightly, unwilling to stray too far.

“You should, um,” Finn manages to say, surprising himself at how different his voice sounds. “You should get back to work.”

“Or,” Poe says, and the gravelly quality of his voice is such that Finn shudders a little. “Here’s another idea: I could do that again.”

“Oh,” Finn breathes, overeager and unashamed. “Good idea.”

Finn tastes sunlight when Poe kisses him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MAJOR THANKS TO @OOKAMIKURO FOR POINTING OUT AN ERROR IN MY OWN CONTINUITY

**Author's Note:**

> ok but idk what this is but yeAH i hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> here's my [tumblr](http://jedipilotstorm.tumblr.com) if u wanna get in touch!


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